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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28711368">Reality is not always pleasant</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callmyname/pseuds/Callmyname'>Callmyname</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Disturbing Themes, Homelessness, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Not Beta Read, Original Character Death(s), Rape/Non-con Elements, Revenge, Torture, rape crisis centres</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:56:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,175</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28711368</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callmyname/pseuds/Callmyname</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Disturbing fic.<br/>Rape.<br/>Torture.<br/>Killing.</p><p>Despite removing this from Tenet, I am still getting hits. Suppose if i want to stop that, I would have to change the names - that is quite a bit of editing . Don't wish to delete this right now. I also don't want to stop people from reading, just wish some nicer stuff I had written was liked better. </p><p> Comments? Sigh wrote this before current policeman murdering woman walking home situation. </p><p>Additional discontinuities.<br/>I agree - I don't even like this, either. But I kinda hope that I might turn this into some brain cookies. Go donate to rape centres and those that support male rape victims. </p><p> </p><p> Major trigger warnings. Read at your peril. But actually - go read something else of mine. </p><p> I. Hate this so much I have taken this off tenet. </p><p>Neil is Max.<br/>.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Neil/original male character</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Dreaming</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Trigger warnings - rape. Severe revenge torture, currently being composed. </p><p>Not light and fluffy. A love story. </p><p>Mangled this as I was so upset writing it. Please if you can, donate to rape crisis centres - and educa<br/>te yourself against rape myths.<br/>Be safe - be well. Yeah I put the chain on my front door after writing this.<br/>May rewrite the actual solution chapters and tidy it up - but that's complete enough to go on with.</p><p>Having said all that, I wanted to see Neil being cherished and loved. Not just abandoned in pain. Poor thing.  Also working through the whole name change process?</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Waking up from a 'dream', in a mess. Trigger warning for anyone has ever been raped or (sexually) assaulted.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My lack of sleep brain came up with this as back story for Neil as Max</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Somewhere .. Somehow?  in the middle of the night, he had been ( partially)   dragged out of sleep by (.. music playing...) </p>
<p>

.
 It seems that somehow several books had fallen over from the desk.<br/>

    Thanks to the tiny room, he had gone and bought some wood to make a larger desk area.  No book shelves did not help. <br/>

He guessed one of them had landed on his laptop, and  clearly his brain had integrated the background noise and  music into his dreams. He shook his head - most unpleasant. Another couple of them had landed on him it seems. <br/>

He rubbed his face. Yes that's where the feeling of being punched came from - his lip was split. </p><p>He looked at the mess he had made of himself in some disgust. Oh, that part of it was also not a dream. These sheets need washing, and he felt in need of a shower. He actually felt a bit disturbed by all that. <br/>

 The feeling of<br/>
-
-  being held down - he had somehow managed to fall asleep in his clothes last night,<br/>

-  had pulled his trousers   down - but<br/> 

- caught the belt round himself, and the legs looked like a rip had been torn in them as he struggled to free himself. He seemed that he was also dragged his jumper round his neck somehow. Yup it felt like he had been strangled. His clothes - they were also completely soiled. He had lost control of himself with every bodily function it seemed. How utterly disgusting. Nothing like that had ever happened before.  </p><p>He had probably dislodged the books sat on his desk in his struggles. His room was so small and crowded that it was not the first time he had kicked stuff off his improvised desk space. </p><p>Well there goes his deposit.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Dealing with consquences</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Max (Neil) sees his advisor</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Max knocked on the door.<br/>
-"Come in. Ah, Max, I hear from the cleaners you have a bit of a problem." His advisor gives him a hard stare.<br/>
.<br/>
Max tries his best sheepish smile. His face looked strained though, and the huge cut to his lips did not help. "Guess I must have had food poisoning." </p><p>It's obvious the advisor thinks it much more likely it's drink - or more likely drugs. </p><p>"-Max, is there something you need to tell me? I had heard you were studious, hard-working and not one to go on a bender. But even the best of us need to let our hair down occasionally. Family problems, perhaps? I know it's not been easy for you, since your father's death. "  </p><p>- "No.. oh, really it was nothing I can explain. I had this really weird dream, and when I woke up, the place was trashed. I don't really want to go into it all. . "  he trailed off, looking incredibly uncomfortable " I uhh, just can't explain what happened. " </p><p>His auditor's gaze had softened as he spoke. It was obvious he was fumbling with words - unsure how to turn a difficult situation  around. The state of Max was frankly shocking. Not like the usually effervescent, charming young man. And the way he looked - not okay at all. </p><p>-"  Had you been out the previous day?" </p><p>

"I don't really remember. Seems the last thing that is clear is being in the Students Union having a bit of s dance. Only thing I remember drinking was tap water. "  He shook his head in confusion. "No, that's not right, I have flashes of images of being drunk. And these images are all disjointed and weird, like a nightmare. So I am really not sure if they are real.  </p>
<p>

       But then I wake up like this. Which I don't really understand. " He touched the side of his neck, where a huge bruise was beginning to show. </p><p>

 He grimaced - in pain, but also at the mental confusion he was suffering from. It was not just a hang-over - it's not like he hadn't got drunk before now. 
</p><p>
"Sorry, I am really not okay right now, but I don't really want to..  I just don't want to go back to that room" . 
</p><p>
" it's okay, we can sort that out for you. Either on campus, or I might be able to arrange to get you into a scheme we run with a house-sitting firm. Considering your personal circumstances, I am sure they would be delighted to assist. But..." he took a deep breathe. " what happened to you, we cannot just ignore". </p><p>

Max looked agitatedly  at him. "I am so sorry'.</p><p>

"No, you misunderstand . Max... this is serious - have you had yourself medically examined?  because there is. Well another possibility. That you were spiked with one of the date rape drugs.  I am sorry to say it, but you won't be t|e first, and the truth is that you are just the sort of person that predators like that would hit on. " .</p><p>- " I, Uhh. Okay truth be told you are not the first person to suggest that.".  He took a deep breathe and fumbled around " and I just went to these people." He handed over a card, and looked down at the floor, "They had no doubt that I  was ....raped' .</p><p>"I don't care about the deposit, I just need somewhere else to sleep tonight. In fact, somewhere I can go to right now. They told me not to shower or change, if I could bear it, as that would increase the chances of finding forensic evidence. It was dreadful. I ... stink. My room stinks, and I am exhausted, hurt and want to just go home. But Mum would flip out. "</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Discussion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Neil + Pro discuss what had happened, all those years ago.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A few bits of vague inconsistency as I work through this, and I need to work out timelines for the inversion trips. </p><p>I utterly freaked out at the torture chapter I wrote, and need to think about that.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"What's happened happened" Neil sighed. </p><p>Look, I don't  really  remember what did happen. Did not want to, but I did write it all down. They never caught them, either. But you...</p><p>You were there. Came knocking on my door just afterwards. Ignorance is our ammunition and all, but I need to tell you about all this.</p><p>"why now?<br/>
Because if I factor in the time on your inversion trip you are going on, you look about right for how I remember you. And, well, you didn't know until now, did you?  No-one did initially . Apart from the confidential outfit I went to. And  my advisor, who did a lot to help me through it all. " 


* 
 Now, most likely. "

[if we are going to be more than friends].  </p><p> </p><p>I looked at him in shock. "Did you go to the police, then?" . "No, Mum had enough to deal with - I didn't want her to read about me being raped. As it was, she did suspect, after I had asked about who it was that was  stalking her. </p><p>-"She said it was not a stalker, it was a friend?"<br/>
- "yes" . </p><p>-" maybe we got them? "</p><p>-"  I  hope so. that's more than possible. I am pretty certain it was you that disappeared with a load of the 'evidence'. Look let's start with what I know. The security footage was taken by someone. "</p><p>- “it could have been us.</p><p>-"yeah, maybe. Or it could have been whoever did it to me.” </p><p>“And the other victims? Any idea how many of them were?”</p><p>“Not entirely, but a good sum of money ended up in the hands of a counselling support service. I spent quite a time getting help from them. They dealt with us anonymously. Thats also when I changed my name. ”</p><p> </p><p>“It was a long time ago for me, and I don't blame myself. But it has affected me.' </p><p>- “what about forensic evidence? Did you get swabbed or anything like that.”</p><p>- “That was all dealt with at the time. But the samples? Not sure what had happened to them. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. First results</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Evidence</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I"m sorry to have to tell you this, Max</p><p>But yes, it was not just a dream. You were sexually assaulted.


 I have taken swabs, and  you need to bag up the ruined bedding,  as there may well be forensic evidence in that.  Fron what you tell me ,they probably used a date rape drug. 

We will get the college to look at security footage, but do you want the police involved?  </p><p>Max looks shocked.</p><p>- Max,  you may well not be the only victim.  This is important. Especially as, judging by the neck injury, there is a significant danger of  someone getting killed.</p><p>---------</p><p>"Mum, something happened. I could really do with some help.  Not sure if it was random. Or if someone was targeting me. I just don't want to talk about it right now.</p>
<p>

"But your posterity man - you trust him?"</p>
<p>

---------<br/>
She dialled quickly, and left the usual very brief message. It's Max. Something has happened. And : time date place  coordinates. .  


 </p><p>----------</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Marshal arrives</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Evidence collection.</p><p>Trigger warnings  for rape survivors.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neill sat and scratched his head. Okay, the therapist had explained to him tha he needed to take back control of how he had felt.</p><p>Self-care. Check. Intellectual analysis of how he felt. Check. Write down how he felt - cathartic exercise, but also evidence "for posterity" :  check. Full medical check-up, including STDI : check. Follow-up treatment:check. Talk to advisor asap:check. </p><p>Dirty, disgusted with himself. Waking like that, the feeling of horror at the smells of Urine, semen and excrement. Sweat. </p><p>The way he hurt internally. The smashed up lip, the strangle marks to his neck not the result of a nightmare. Music to cover noises being overheard by his neighbours. </p><p>The initial complete incomprehension as to what had happened, and the rationalisation.  Then the gradual awareness as he sat there that this was simply not believable. Though it made no sense, he felt like he had been raped. </p><p> </p><p>The ruined bedding. The desire to throw it all away.</p><p>Then the knock on his door: </p><p>- Cleaners! </p><p>That timing was fortuitous, because if he had been left a few minutes longer, he would probably have had a shower, Gor them to change his bedding.</p><p>As it was, he staggered to the door + had pulled his clothes up.</p><p>Opened the door, and said. </p><p>"Can't come in. today." </p><p>The cleaner looked at him, the smell and state of him. " you have an accident? You hurt? He indicated his lips" Raised eyebrows. Soft. Dark brown eyes met his. " "let me in, we can change those sheets for you, no problem." </p><p>The man smiled reassuringly at him. It was not one of the usual cleaners. An American accent. Older man, strangely familiar though he could not place him right now.  He felt a wave of relief, and let him in. </p><p>" - I- need a shower. Can I leave you to it?" </p><p>That was where the man had looked oddly concerned. </p><p>"Max...  yes, you can leave me to clean. But, before you shower, there is something you need to do. Now. I know you are a brave young man. "</p><p>"You hurt, and you don't remember how" .</p><p> </p><p>-. Trust me on this. I have seen this before. Let me in.  To be ill like this, it is not okay. You need to get this checked out /immediately/ by the doctors. I will clean your room for you. </p><p>And somehow or other, he had been talked into doing it. The cleaner had introduced himself as Marshal. 

had convinced him that the best thing to do with the "evidence" of his night was for it all to be bagged up- and that he should go immediately to be seen by the doctors for an examination as to what had happened. In fact, go to this clinic that would take walk-in patients in his current state. </p><p>He knew that the strangely familiar and reassuring cleaner was right. That the smells all suggested a sexual assault he could not remember. </p><p>That when he had done with it all, if he discovered anything upsetting, to go see - a card was handed to him. A sexual counselling and testing facility. </p><p>- it's free. They won't judge you, any more than I will.<br/>
Also, he had quietly asked him" Do you remember me? I am  Marshal. It's been a long time, but I have done work for your family before.  " </p><p>As they had talked, he had finally remembered him. Yes, of course. The man from his childhood, the man who had always appeared and somehow or other either stopped something dreadful from happening, or "fixed it" . The man that Mum had trusted.</p><p>So he had nodded, and agreed to do as he had been suggested. Marshal  had handed him a phone, and said. " leave a message - saying what had happened last night. Like your Mum does. 

Posterity".</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>"I bet you have killed a lot of people in your time"<br/>"I am not the man they send to negotiate"</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Problem solved</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The protagonist organises a stop to do some cleaning work.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The DNA evidence was clear.<br/>
Max had been raped.<br/>
His notes were  good enough for a conviction, but I would rather a "suicide" because someone like that would still be a danger after they had served their term. </p><p>His notes also explained what was going on behind that face - he was very, very good at the charm. But underneath it all?  The child who had seen strange things, but also the child who trusted my idea of a solution to some types of  problems. </p><p>Well I need to make a stop-off and do a quick "cleaning" job.  There may be other victims. </p><p>I can see why Neil had to tell me - it explains a lot. That reaction to me holding him round the neck? And Neil has always trusted me more than I sometimes felt I deserved. I guess I know why now. .  if ever there was someone who could break down the hidden fears in his head and let him enjoy his sexuality,  it seems I am the one . </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Rape myths</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Neil looks into the facts - women mainly rapes at the weekend, by partners, sterio</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Max sat and looked at the huge document.  He is going to turn this around, because he is a survivor, not a victim. His Mum was a survivor, not a victiim.</p><p>

It seems that the person who raped him was the barman who he used to chat to when bored, and who had mixed him a vodka tonic. Well okay, he will make it his go-to drink, because actually it was a nice drink.</p><p>

And the other victims - he is going home, Mum needs to know. Because he wants to take some of that blood money from Sator, and put it into supporting better counselling services, helping the self-blaming victims who never came forward r.</p><p>

So, most women raped at the weekend, and judging by the times and other stuff - by their "significant other'. Men - not that pattern. But men mostly not coming forward, and there being little to no support. The assumption of women that they were in danger from strangers, false. Whereas men did not even see the danger .</p><p>

What happened to Max  was actually not the usual pattern. Or was it? Had he gone back to his room with the bar tender? He might well have done - if he had got drunk, yes he trusted the guy well enough to have accepted his help. He would never have realised there was a problem. The words out of the report echoed back at him: women live in fear of being raped - men don't see a threat. 

Well, he does not know right now. It's possible there is a mysterious stranger danger preying on the student population  - the sort that would hit the news and add to those dreadful myths. But more likely a friendly bar tender who spikes your drinks and then helps you back to your room.</p><p>

Whichever:  the ' cleaning solution" has the advantage of keeping the whole thing out of the news - and not dragging the victims through the soul destroying process of attending court.  </p><p>Warming - skip next chapter If it's there with warnings!!!!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>9. Revenge. Very dubious - TRIGGER WARNING</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The protagonist shows his dark side. Revenge.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I stood outside the door. Waiting for him.</p><p>Hand over his mouth, "just open the door". I  held the gun against his head. "don't screw this up,  can just shoot you here,  it would be the easiest bullet I ever shot.</p><p>-" Fuck".  he said ' please don't hurt me"<br/>
I laugh, push him into the flat. " bit too late for that. . Sit down<br/>


I wave at the office chair, and  start with zip ties to spread him out.  

- I have every intention of hurting you.<br/>

- After all those pretty boys you have enjoyed. This is payback time. And a warning for the future - don't hurt my friend.<br/>

I wheel him into the kitchen/diner  in front of me. 

Turn a spotlight on, pointed into his face.<br/>
The music system is good to go.<br/>
I put the CD in and hit play. Ah, Reservoir Dogs stuck in the middle with you. Seems a hint there, okay. 

I get the carving knife out of the kitchen. Take his ear off. What a lot of blood.  He screams loudly. It's very satisfying. Horrifying, but satisfying. </p><p>

Get the Polaroid - and take some snaps. They can be put into the Dropbox for posterity. </p><p>

""Scream for help if you want, but you won't be heard. All your neighbours are gone. They were evacuated by "#the fire service". The police won't come, either. Nope. Just you and me."</p><p>

 I wonder if Neil ( - no, Max - ) fancies popping by later to check up on how I am doing.  No, I don't think so. It's one thing vaguely imagining torture .. Torture porn even. But in practice, he would probably find the whole thing horrifically triggering. </p><p>He examines a list of requests and ideas.</p><p>#Suck me off.?<br/>
Yuk! No thank you. Not into some stupid rape fantasy.<br/>
# pulling  few teeth?<br/>
That sounds fair. I saw what Neil looked like.  </p><p>-" any apologies? No? I will gag you in a bit. But first ... no hurry. "
</p><p>yeah No hurry.</p><p>He poured a drink forced him to drink. Let that work on him.</p><p>And whilst he is at it, gets out pliers and pulls the first few. </p><p>&lt;&gt;#more photos.</p><p>Injects something.</p><p>"That will get you to cooperate. Beg for my attention.  What a lovely mix.<br/>
A cut across his chest with s kitchen knife spilt vinegar across it.  He screams some more. </p><p>

#skewers for a bbq </p><p>"ah fingers." I put on the handcuffs, as I am concerned the cable ties won't hold. Belt across his middle. Win-win. Blood flow confined -hurts - such an excellent look. Yes, the message loud and clear.  Click-click. </p><p>Phone rings. Ah, Max asking for help. I reply, saying I will be there shortly.</p><p>Handcuffed him to the frame of the office chair spreading him backward at an uncomfortable angle and started cutting away at the clothes @<br/>
Spread his legs and "be good" </p><p>I walk out the door. Hmm. </p><p>Bailey will have to take over.</p><p>------</p><p># inserted a butt plug.??</p><p>Ah sod it, I always wanted to try some water boarding. Oooh. That is really getting him unhappy. No point asking questions though. He will just say anything. </p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> Lube no. Recent cooking  he used goose fat and mixed in some hot chilli powdergrease but something with ahhh curry powder would do. A good fat carrot.</p><p>Right. Now the real question.<br/>
"Should I shoot you. Or have you learnt the lesson?"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>10. House-sitting. - fluff</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Neil (Max) moves into his temporary accommodation</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Max fumbled with the key - grateful for the automatic lighting. The door swung open to a corridor, off which he could see a large kitchen in front of him, and a long open plan living room off to the left of him. There was a fireplace - a real fireplace, laid all ready for a match to be applied. A few "congratulations" cards  adorned the mantle-piece. There was a pile of unopened mail at his feet, that had obviously overwhelmed the letterbox. Flowers had wilted on the side - bits of paper was scattered round the place, ripped up envelopes, wrapping papers, ribbons. A slight smell of mustiness hung in the air. It was cold. </p><p>A suit hung on the internal door. And .. What was that? Oh. Oops.  Someone clearly left on their honeymoon in a bit of a hurry. </p><p>He walked into the kitchen, and turned the heating up. Started stripping out of his clothes. He opened a few drawers until he found a bin bag, and stuffed them into it. Then walked naked into the shower he could see in front of him. It looked like it was adapted for a wheelchair user. Tiles ran from the kitchen to this area, so that was just fine. </p><p>It was a power shower. Oh thank God. He started scrubbing.  Let the water run. After a bit, he pulled the seat down, and sat there letting the water run over his back. </p><p>Okay - towels. Hair dryer. Clean clothes out of the bag that he had brought.  Close the window. Light the fire.   Open the fridge - not much there, thank goodness. Half a bottle of champagne. Some food in need of chucking.  A jar of olives, pickles. Freezer - not bad. A few ready meals. Larder -  a few root vegetables. Tins of soup, ham... yeah enough to eat at least for tonight. Looks like cereals too. Ah and sealed soy  milk, juices, tinned fruit. </p><p>Oh thank God. He  makes a list of what he needs to get, whilst letting the oven warm.</p><p>He gets out the phone Marshall  had left him, and .<br/>
"Hi it's Max. Umm, I have just moved into 17 Heber Avenue.  It's 7pm Monday 14/4.  I was wondering if you could help?<br/>
He puts the phone down. There is a beep. TXT.<br/>
" see you in five minutes. "<br/>
Wow.<br/>
Sure enough, the doorbell rings shortly.  There he stands.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Though it might not work, I can't get out of my head the idea that the honeymooners are Neil and The Protagonist, post canon, fix-it  (see epilogue, In hospital). </p><p>Neil in wheelchair?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>11. Getting to know each other :fluff</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The cleaner helps Max settle in</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>-Neil opened the door. </p><p>"Marshall. Thank God you are here.! I never expected you to come round so fast" .</p><p>- " I. was expecting your call. You relax, I will do my job. I brought some of your stuff over - and some groceries. " </p><p>Marshall  put a bag next to him - he saw it was his laptop bag

. "That okay?  Your room is cleaned, and I put some stuff in my car for you. Laptop; clothes: and groceries. 

ollect stuff, but I thought you would need that- check emails. I have got the details to get you set up on the house network. 

 And - I gather the happy couple are seriously thinking of selling this place. So, you could just stay here, and if you like it? " </p><p>

-"  yeah that's great. Thank you.<br/>
He also had a bag of - fresh fruit. Unpacked into the fruit bowl. Bread. Cheese. Cold meats. He made sure Max saw what he was putting away. </p><p>"shall I put the garlic bread in the oven? It's quick! And you need some food". .</p><p>- sure.</p><p>He started on clearing the sink. Dishwasher had been run, so got out a couple of glasses and some plates. Opened the fridge, took the champagne out. Handed Neil a glass. </p><p>" - toast your new home? </p><p>-uhhh. </p><p>- trust me? </p><p>" -uhhh, yeah. Very much so. " Max blushed slightly. " Thank you for being here."  </p><p> He mixed it with OJ , handed Max a glass.<br/>
- it's okay. You are safe, and I can make sure you stay that way.  </p><p>"  I have all the kit to set up intruders alarms, and set them to text me if anyone breaks them. But your ... encounter. He is not doing that anymore, I assure you. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>12. Rape scene</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Another victim. </p><p>Attempted rape<br/>Death<br/>Violence</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Brought this from another fic, as it was better suited here. But ! Continuity?<br/>Jumps perspective. Being edited.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I screamed loudly. His hand clamped over me - I bit hard. Dug my nails into his arm and ripped as hard as I could.<br/>
Fuck - a punch to my face. I pulled away, feeling my hair rip as I did. Not going to go down without a fight. 

 Yeah - me?  not fear or pain. That is rage. In his bloody ear. Spat at him. </p><p>Uurrgh that did hurt though. He is so much stronger than me,  but  "GET OFF ME YOU MOTHER FUCKING BASTARD. " I kicked around. Not not going to submit. I have got skin and stuff under my fingernails, so uhh. More samples - I know how this is going to end. Yeah I  read the warnings, and the papers. Shit. How???.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, he lost his strength, and slumped over me. I was sprayed with something. </p><p>A strange man appeared round the corner, holding a rather terrifying gun. Good grief. Blood was splattered all over me. My assailant had just been shot. His  dark eyes stared down at us. I had a body draped over me, and blood had splattered all over me. </p><p>"Julie"  he quietly asked. "You okay?"</p><p> I nodded  " ugh. Get him OFF me.  </p><p>"yeah".  I felt my body trembling, and God, I felt cold and exposed.  Another person had come in. He was clutching a blanket and a bag.  They lifted him off between them, and a blanket was draped over the worst of my shame. </p><p>" I   think it's all his blood" . The blond chap started dabbing at my face. "Shall I just give you..."</p><p> </p><p>-------</p><p>Marshall came over and pulled him off the girl.  Clearly it was a lie, saying she was okay. After all, she had just been nearly raped

.<br/>
-------<br/>


But I guess... I looked down at the rapist in shock. He had acquired a hole in his head - and oh good God. Bits of brain + bone too. I had a few nicks on my face from the spray of gore. </p><p>My stomach heaved, and I lost it. </p><p>medic guy held me a basin. His arms around me - yeah that's okay. Wiping me down. </p><p>- I"m Neil, he said - and that's Marshal.<br/>
- Just let it out.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>13. Go away</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I dont quite want to delete this - but want it to go away for a bit</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>La la la wahta was I thinking when I wrote this all!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>14. Hita</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>152<br/>176</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>What 1</p><p>Typing it with left hand coffee in right</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Protagonist "the cleaner" needs to come fix whoever did this to Neil.</p><p>Bailey -Marshal? </p><p> </p><p> But just imagine him shooting the rapist in the head much like he threatened to do to  the not- arms dealer.</p><p>"This is the easiest bullet I ever fired". Plus I need to revisit the idea of helping him with new identity, and feeling loved. Definitely feeling loved.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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